Sorry for up and disappearing for like ten days...
I juat had the wildest week of my life.
I got my result and well I'm going to the fourth ranked college in my country, my best friend of eight years confessed to me....
Turns out me the staunch hater of Dense protagonists was the dense one all along..
And my parents are filing for divorce ... life was just getting too good I had to step back and think for a moment..
---
Leo succeeded.
It had taken precisely 21,952 reforges — each one an iteration of Echoforge, adjusting, aligning, and refining — until not a single speck of material property remained.
All that was left was pure structure composed entirely of mana.
The first prototype of a Mana Brain.
It rested on his palm, moving with slight tremors like a heartbeat in response to leo sending his mana inside.
It was responsive. Ready to connect.
Leo should've felt Triumph.
But instead… a frown formed across his face as his eyes flashed golden for a second.
He didn't move for a second.
Then his hand shot toward the door, veins flaring crimson across his skin from his wrist to the edge of his palm.
A beam of mana burst forward—razor-thin, focused, volatile.
Midway through the air, it transmuted into pressurized air stream, a jet of air that struck a figure just beginning to manifest in the middle of his room from a shadow portal.
The beam knocked her off balance.
"Tch," Seraphine clicked her tongue in annoyance, brushing mist off her shoulder. "You're seriously hard to take by surprise, you annoying little clairvoyant."
Leo just squinted at her.
"You're in my room. Why?"
She gave him a smile. "Well… I came to attack you in your sleep—standard creepy enemy behavior, you know. But instead, I found something much more interesting."
Leo groaned. "Of course you did."
Without further warning, he placed a hand on her shoulder and shoved her backwards while simultaneously opening the door.
Just before it closed, Leo muttered:
"If you come back, I'm telling my mom you touched me inappropriately...."
Seraphine's voice echoed faintly from the other side.
"You little brat—!"
Thud...Click.
The door was closed on her face.
---
After crafting the blueprint, Leo had successfully integrated five of the mana brains into himself.
That already enhanced his processing capacity by 5 times and speed by 25 times with leo also unlocking parallel thought.
They sat nestled in a metaphysical layer of his nervous system, assisting in parallel thought, sensory parsing, and information weaving.
But the integration process was laborious.
Every addition required meticulous mana threading, soul resonance calibration, and ensuring his organic mind wasn't overwhelmed by the conceptual load.
So he paused.
Five was enough for now.
Instead of pushing integration in quatity, Leo made a decision—he'd take the same approach he had used with mana control: remove the cap itself.
After all, if Logos Erasure could nullify the limits of precision and capacity in mana control… surely, the same could be applied to cognitive function.
All he needed was the right understanding of it.
Just as he closed his notes and prepared to finally rest—
Knock knock.
Leo froze.
"Leo, sweetheart, we're about to land," Seraphine's voice called gently from the other side of the door.
He blinked.
Wait—land?
A glance at the clock made him sigh. It was already morning.
He rubbed his eyes. "I'm coming…" he said.
Padding over to the side, he pulled open the window screen that had stayed shut since boarding.
And blinked.
Outside, there was... nothing.
Just endless ocean.
No landmass. No structures. Just clouds brushing over a blue infinity.
But that was just for normal people ....Truth Layer activated.
He saw the island, like a mirage.
A membrane floated above the ocean, barely perceptible even to magical senses.
Only once touched would the island truly reveal itself—like waking from a shared dream.
To avoid accidents, a cylindrical field surrounded the membrane: a boundary spell that rendered all incoming objects or people intangible unless they bore the Morningstar bloodline or a specific binding sigil—the same one etched onto the side of their private plane.
"Huh. Neat," Leo muttered.
His eyes moved across the now-revealed land.
The island was breathtaking—lush greenery, crystalline waterfalls, and architecture built within the remains of a massive dragon skeleton.
A ribcage formed towering arches, while one of the skull's eye sockets had been carved into a cathedral window. The place felt ancient, yet impossibly advanced.
Despite the grandeur, only twenty or so people were visible, walking across bridges of bone or tending to floating mana gardens.
And then Leo noticed something else.
There was no runway.
"…Huh. That'll be interesting," he said, tilting his head.
---
After some time
Instead of approaching a runway—since there wasn't one—the aircraft slowed mid-air, its wings subtly folding in as mana propulsion arrays on its undercarriage flared to life.
With a quiet hum and a shimmer of light, the entire vessel began to descend vertically like a helicopter, the runic sigils on its surface glowing in tandem with the magical field beneath.
A cushion of air and mana formed a soft buffer as they touched down on an open, obsidian-like landing pad embedded into the dragon's spine. There was no jolt, just a gentle weight settling onto the earth.
By the time the hatch opened, Leo had already cleaned up, dressed in a new, simple black fit with silver linings—casual enough not to seem too serious.
As he stepped out of his room, he could feel Seraphine's eyes digging holes into his skull from across the corridor.
She didn't say anything.
She didn't have to.
Leo offered her a smirk and a nod. "Morning, stalker."
"Ungrateful child...."
Thankfully, before their bickering could escalate, Leo's father—took the lead.
"Most of the island runs on the Crest of Ambition," Lucien explained as they began to walk. His tone was calm, almost tired, but layered with subtle pride. "A sentient magical matrix anchored into the land. It manages all automation—weather, cleaning, food systems, security."
Leo observed as they passed by open courtyards and paved walkways made of dragonbone slabs. Maintenance spells flitted like invisible hands, mending cracks, watering plants, and keeping surfaces pristine.
More interestingly, Leo saw them—threads of mana trailing from each spell construct, vanishing into the void. They weren't drawing energy from the air or ground, but instead from another dimension entirely.
A parallel mana stream? A pseudo-realm battery?
He burned with curiosity, but kept his expression neutral.
No need to be overeager.
Then, something strange caught his eye.
In a small garden tucked near a spiraling bone column, a wolf-headed man was watering plants with a large can, humming softly under his breath.
Leo blinked. "Uh…"
Lucien followed his gaze. "Ah. That's Damian. He doesn't talk."
Leo nodded slowly, not needing to ask why.
The man wasn't just wearing a wolf pelt—he was a wolf.
Muscular. Seven feet tall. Fangs. Tail.
And currently patting a flower.
Leo's mind did the math instantly.
So someone in the bloodline thought it was a good idea to bang a wolf man ..?
Beastiality, huh.... My ancestors sure had some weird kinks.
The thought made him creeped out slightly.
The rest of the walk was largely silent.
Seraphine peeled away partway through.
The house or rather, sanctum—was quiet and spacious, built directly into the rib cage of the massive dragon skeleton.
Eventually, Lucien guided Leo into a large study.
He handed Leo two worn, leather-bound journals with ancient sigils etched into the covers.
"These," he said simply, "are the other two volumes. Read them in descending order. You'll understand why once you start."
Leo held them, their weight oddly warm in his hands.
One was chipped and dusty, with an eye sigil on the front.
The other was pristine and quiet, bound in an unfamiliar hide that pulsed faintly.
He gave a small nod.
---
When Leo opened the second journal, he was greeted not by arcane diagrams or records, but by a note.
A handwritten one.
Its ink was old but unfaded, the penmanship precise and strangely familiar.
"If you're reading this, you've awakened the inherent ability granted by our bloodline. You might want to brace yourself. Like the first journal, this is partially a record of our lineage—but more importantly, it is a detailed expression of our duty..."
— Allan Spellman
Leo stared at the signature for a moment.
That name...
He didn't recognize it from the family tree.
Which meant it was someone they erased.
He read on.
His gaze darkened.
Lines formed on his forehead. His jaw clenched.
At one point, a surge of mana pulsed out from his skin, causing the journal to flutter as if caught in a breeze.
His hand trembled for a moment before he forced it still.
Then, without a word, he closed it with a quiet but sharp thump.
He didn't even breathe for a few seconds.
His eyes fell to the first journal—the one with the eye sigil.
His fingers hesitated... then flipped it open.
The first page greeted him with a hand-drawn sketch of a girl, eyes bright and expression gentle.
Leo ignored it.
There was something feverish in the way he read, tearing through line after line, as if trying to anchor himself.
---
Boom—
The door to his parents' room exploded open, shards of reinforced oak scattering harmlessly thanks to barrier wards.
Leo stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, magic humming faintly around him like a coiled tempest.
His face was flushed, with anger, shock, defiance, and something deeper.
"You don't expect me to go through with this."
Kazren, standing by the window with a half-filled glass of wine, didn't flinch.
He looked at Leo with calm eyes—eyes that had waited decades for this confrontation.
"Leo—"
"This is insanity."
His voice cracked just slightly.
"No," His father said softly. "This is legacy."
Leo stepped forward. "No. Legacy is inheriting power, titles, stupid expectations. This—" he held up the journal, almost accusingly—"This is madness."
This reaction, the rage stemmed from what he had learned from the two journals.
It was about origin.
The Morningstar name, that he believed to be a badge inherited from Lucifer, the First Fallen, was, in truth, a mockery.
When Lucifer fell, he didn't become a devil immediately.
Instead, he was approached by something older than sin, a Primordial Spirit of Darkness—one who had long envied the cycle of creation but lacked the authority to shape life.. as the planet didn't favour her.
She didn't desire dominion over darkness.
She desired to breqk free and create her own..
And so, she offered Lucifer something impossible—a way to defy God, to surpass the might of Heaven.
In his fury, Lucifer accepted.
She drank his divine light corrupted, yes, but still divine and in doing so, transformed him into the first true devil.
But that was only step one.
To truly escape the bounds of her spirit form, she needed more.
She used what remained of Lucifer's spark to transmute herself into blood, and with it, gave life to a mud doll—her first vessel, her first rebirth.
That act—creating life outside the accepted cycle—was an abomination in the eyes of The planet when done by her own child..
So she made her pay a price..
At first, she didn't know what had been taken.
She still had power. She still breathed.
Soom she began to age losing her immortal unaging self.
And then… her children began to die.
One by one. Quietly. Always before the age of thre.
She begged.
Even tried to rewrite fate by using time...
But fate didn't negotiate.
When her youngest child, barely weeks old, died in her arms, something inside her broke.
In despair, she carved open her own veins and poured all that she was into a pit of her own blood—transferring her spirit, knowledge, essence into the child's corpse.
And the child lived again.
But from that moment on, the Ritual became the only way the Morningstars could survive.
Each new life would come at a cost.
The Pit grew.
With every generation, more and more Morningstar blood was added.
It was no longer inheritance—it was sacrifice.
Eventually, a man named Allan Spellman—a descendant who had inherited the full truth—refused to let the cycle continue blindly.
He carved an array of magic into every cell of his being, fundamentally altering the ritual.
It no longer demanded the outright death of the parent—only the loss of their essence.
They lived..
They still suffered.
Always.
Vegetative states. Withered bodies. Slowly fading minds.
But still—they died within three years.
And Leo?
One year had already passed.
But unlike what Allan described as the symptoms that occur when more than one awakened morningstar exists at the same time..
Leo had experienced none...
Nothing.
Which meant only one thing:
He was the stronger one.
It meant his father was suffering because of him.
Leo calmed down and asked, quietly this time,
"How bad has it gotten?"
It wasn't his father who replied.
It was his mother leaning against the carved wall with a glass of wine.
"Well… your father's been rather not feeling himself for quite some time. His strength's accelerated to the point it's hard to control. He broke the bath faucet just by turning it last week....and cuddling with him hurts" She sipped the wine, nonchalant.
"Oh—and he basically has no sexual drive anymore."
Leo choked. "MOM—!!"
She blinked innocently. "What? You asked."
Lucien, ever the unbothered corpse in a good suit, just gave a shrug. "She's not wrong."
Leo groaned, dragging a hand across his face. "Gods above, below, and sideways…"
Hana rolled her eyes. "Oh please, we're all adults here—well, technically. I squeezed you out after drinking half a barrel of godwine ... I get to be honest."
Kazren let out a low chuckle. "It's fine, Leo. Or rather—we're fine. The consequences… we accepted them long ago...But your reaction tells me you finally read everything."
"…Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he muttered.
His father's gaze met his, level. "Because I wanted you to make your own decision. The truth burns deeper when it's found, not given."
"That's dumb," Leo muttered.
Just as it seemed like Leo was finally coming to terms with it all—the legacy, the burden, the truth—he turned around, eyes steady, voice sharp with resolve.
"Anyway," he said, as if casually announcing dinner plans, "I'm not going through with the ritual."
Both Hana and Lucien froze.
Leo continued before they could interrupt, "I don't need this clan's blood. I didn't ask for it, and I sure as hell won't be bound by it."
=======================
Power Stones and Reviews please